At ten oclock Levin, weary, hungry, and happy after a tramp of twenty miles, returned to his nights lodging with nineteen head of fine game and one duck, which he tied to his belt, as it would not go into the game-bag. His companions had long been awake, and had had time to get hungry and have breakfast.

Wait a bit, wait a bit, I know there are nineteen, said Levin, counting a second time over the grouse and snipe, that looked so much less important now, bent and dry and bloodstained, with heads crooked aside, than they did when they were flying.

I am perfectly well and happy. If you were uneasy about me, you can feel easier than ever. Ive a new bodyguard, Marya Vlasyevna,this was the midwife, a new and important personage in Levins domestic life. She has come to have a look at me. She found me perfectly well, and we have kept her till you are back. All are happy and well, and please, dont be in a hurry to come back, but, if the sport is good, stay another day.

These two pleasures, his lucky shooting and the letter from his wife, were so great that two slightly disagreeable incidents passed lightly over Levin. One was that the chestnut trace-horse, who had been unmistakably overworked on the previous day, was off his feed and out of sorts. The coachman said he was Overdriven yesterday, Konstantin Dmitritch, he said. Yes, indeed! driving ten miles with no sense!

The other unpleasant incident, which for the first minute destroyed his good-humour, though later he laughed at it a great deal, was to find that of all the provisions Kitty had provided in such abundance that one would have thought there was enough for a week, nothing was left. On his way back, tired and hungry, from shooting, Levin had so distinct a vision of meat-pies, that as he approached the hut he seemed to smell and taste them, as Laska had smelt the game, and he immediately told Philip to give him some. It appeared that there were no pies left, nor even any chicken.

Their homeward journey was as lively as their drive out had been. Veslovsky sang songs and related with enjoyment his adventures with the peasants, who had regaled him with vodka, and said to him, Excuse our homely ways, and his nights adventures with kiss-in-the-ring and the servant-girl and the peasant, who had asked him was he married, and on learning that he was not, said to him, Well, mind you dont run after other mens wivesyoud better get one of your own. These words had particularly amused Veslovsky.

I have, very much, Levin said quite sincerely. It was particularly delightful to him to have got rid of the hostility he had been feeling towards Vassenka Veslovsky at home, and to feel instead the most friendly disposition to him.